Bygones
by cowlicklesschick
Summary: Strictly platonic Draco/Ginny. Approximately a year and a half post Battle of Hogwarts. References to Romione and Hinny, and various other canon pairings. All rights to Queen Rowling.


_**Even as I write this, my conscience is banging me over the head with a shovel, going "YOU REALLY OUGHT TO BE WORKING ON YOUR NARNIA FIC".**_

_**Alright, so I'm being frustratingly slow-paced about that one, and I'm sorry. But this little number popped up inside my head and wouldn't go away, so hopefully you'll find this enjoyable. Feedback is the air which I breathe, so please be a dear and review, favorite, follow, PM, or contact me via tumblr – cowlicklesschick.**_

_**I feel like I should warn you all that Draco is (I feel) massively OOC in this. But I happen to like him that way, and I hope you do too.**_

_**Happy reading!**_

/

"Weasley! When you've finished, new one at the bar!"

Ginny sighed and wiped her damp forehead with the back of one wrist, then placed the last wineglass on the shelf and turned in the direction of the yelling.

_It's just for this summer_, she reminded herself, determined to not be in a foul mood all day. She grabbed a fresh apron off the hook as she passed, and fixed both it and a – hopefully – cheerful smile as she stepped into the front room of The Leaky Cauldron.

Both the smile and her precariously optimistic disposition, however, plummeted when she caught sight of the new customer.

"Weasley?"

Draco Malfoy looked as stunned as she felt; his usual arrogant smirk was replaced by genuine confusion as he took in her appearance. Something must have clicked, because his face cleared and a ghost of that smirk twitched its way across his features. "I didn't know you were a barmaid here."

Trying very hard not to glare openly at him in front of her employer, she plopped quill and parchment on the counter in front of him. "For your information, Malfoy, I'm a _waitress_. And it's only for the summer; I need a decent broom for next year."

_Why did I tell him that?_ She asked herself. Malfoy didn't care why she was working in a pub, did he, no, he just wanted to mock her for it now he knew. And her reasons were really none of his business. To her surprise, he gave no snarky comment in return, but rather an understanding nod.

"I'd heard you were going for a spot on the Harpies. When are tryouts?"

"Er…mid-September."

"D'you know any of the other contenders?"

"No, not personally anyway, but Jones sent around a list of everyone's names so we'd know." Ginny frowned in confusion – _Malfoy_ was actually having a civil conversation? With _her_?

The world righted itself in the next few moments, however, when that stupid smirk returned and he leaned across the bar slightly. "Right then, I'll have a bowl of the pumpkin custard and a butterbeer."

Ginny didn't spare him so much as an eyeroll, though his voice had gone back to that insufferable drawl that had driven her spare back at Hogwarts. Instead she merely scribbled his order on the parchment, which immediately floated away towards the kitchens.

"So, Weasley," he said when she started to turn away, "Has Saint Potter made an honest witch of you yet?"

For the space of three heartbeats, Ginny gaped at him like a fish out of water. What in Morgana's name was going on, with Draco Malfoy of all people, showing up and making small talk?

"Erm…well, no offense, Malfoy, but don't you think that if the great Harry Potter went and got married, it'd be in the paper somewhere?"

"No offense, Weaslette, but I don't exactly leaf through the _Daily Prophet_ every morning to pore over the wedding announcements."

She had a brief vision of him reading the gossip column over his breakfast, and had to repress a snort.

"You've got a fair point there," she agreed, and for reasons beyond her she found herself leaning into the side of the bar, as though she was settling in for a nice long chat with an old friend. "No, Harry and I haven't married yet. We've discussed it, but the timing's not best right now."

Malfoy nodded sagely. "Yeah, I'd heard he was working some ridiculous hours for the Ministry. Auror Department, right?"

Despite herself, Ginny swelled a little with pride. "Yes – Kingsley says he's on the fast track to become Head of the Department. His schedule is positively crammed, but he's happy. We both are. I mean, I am, for the most part, except for this – ", she gestured to the pub, "but it's not long term."

She hadn't meant to babble on so, and for the millionth time she told herself that her life was none of Draco Malfoy's business, but to her even further shock he gave a little smile – smile, not smirk – and propped his chin on one hand.

"What about your brother?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Which one, Malfoy? I have si-five."

The last word was hastily corrected mid-pronunciation, and immediately the tension was thick and heavy in the air. It had been over a year, and Ginny kept half expecting Fred to appear and crack a joke. It didn't seem real at times, and yet at others Ginny could see nothing else save for the memory of when she'd first spotted that red hair among the dead in the Great Hall.

_Not here_, she thought, and cleared her throat. "Well, Bill and Fleur just had a baby – Victoire. And Percy's dating a girl from work. I haven't actually met her but I think her name's Audrey, and George is still running the joke shop, of course, along with Ron's help, and he's engaged to Angelina Johnson."

"And Granger?" Malfoy seemed a bit timid to question her further after her near-blunder, but appeared thankful that she wasn't going to dwell on it.

"Oh, Hermione's working almost non-stop at the Ministry, getting all sorts of new legislation written up and put through. Her and Ron are still going strong, though I really think Harry and I will manage to get married before they do. Ron takes dreadfully long with these things."

Malfoy smiled again, and for a moment neither of them said anything. Suddenly something occurred to her, and she blurted, "What about you?"

Surprised grey eyes swiveled in her direction. "Me?" he asked stupidly.

"Yes, you, Malfoy. It's polite to return the questions, you know. Or have you ever had an actual conversation before?"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, Miss Proper. I'm handling the family business dealings, and I'm in training to be a Healer."

For the first time Ginny noticed his clothes – deep green robes, with the Healer symbol stitched in golden thread on the left breast.

Ginny swallowed. "Oh. You're…you're certainly busy, then."

"Too right I am. I'll admit half the reason I'm anxious for my father to come home is so he can handle the investments. I'm merely keeping things in shape in his absence."

That rather did make sense, but it didn't stop her from asking, "So, why d'you want to be a Healer? If your family already has a business in place, I mean."

Malfoy regarded her carefully, and she started to backtrack, thinking she'd overstepped, but his answer surprised her.

"I'm trying to rebuild the family name."

He caught her perplexed look, and sighed. "Look, my entire family was like…like _that_, alright? Not just my parents, not just my aunts, _everybody_. The only exception is Aunt Andromeda, and she and my mother are still on fairly shaky ground, so it's not like we've anyone truly on our side. I'd like to not be ashamed of my name, even if I'm ashamed of the things I've done and participated in."

It was a far more elegant and thoughtful response than she'd been expecting, and Ginny was forced to admit there was something admirable about it, about a man trying to start from scratch and make something worthwhile out of it. She was about to ask how far he was in his training when he glanced over at the window, and his face went chalk white.

"Weasley," he said roughly, "get down. Now."

"What?" she asked, baffled, and she followed his gaze out the window, and barely had a moment to catch a glimpse of the wand pointed in her direction, before a hand atop her head shoved her to the floor, and the room imploded in a flurry of wood and shattered glass.

/

_**This was going to be either the longest one-shot in the history of man-kind, or a short multi-chap. I've elected the latter, because it's more manageable for both reader and writer. Hope you liked it, and if you did please let know!**_


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